


Joan's Diary

by blackwatson23



Series: Underneath and other Story Rewrites: Spanking Stories [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: BBC Sherlock - Freeform, Dom!Sherlock, Dom/sub, F/M, Good guy Victor, Internal Conflict, Interracial Relationship, Interracial Sherlock - Freeform, Light Bondage, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Sherlock, Spanking, Victor only has a tiny part, diaries, dictionary words, mentions of bondage, strong mentions of spanking, sub!Joan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 11:51:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6422812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackwatson23/pseuds/blackwatson23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Originally 'Diary of a Masochist' by Fiona Hall, from 'Master/Slave' edited by N. T. Morley</p>
<p>Rewritten for the BBC Interracial Sherlock Fandom by blackwatson23</p>
            </blockquote>





	Joan's Diary

**Author's Note:**

> Never learn how to read. It's bad for you and may cause you to read about characters that resound most in you and makes you want to put innocent people in very dangerous and kinda hot situations.
> 
> Also, if you can help it.....don't watch Kedamono-tachi no Sumu Ie de.
> 
> Don't ask.

 

When I first learned to use a dictionary, I’d take one to the private corners of the school library and look up the words that thrilled me the most, finding the definitions that were suitable to my “needs”. The ones that resonated the most in my head even after I put the book away.

_Discipline: punishment designed to_ control _an offender and to eliminate or_ reform unacceptable conduct

_Punish: Subjecting someone to loss of freedom or money or to_ physical pain for wrongdoing

_Chastise: refers to_ corporal punishment _as a means of_ improving behavior

_Spank:_ To slap _on_ the buttocks _with a flat object or with the_ open hand _in_ punishment

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> 

When I turned 19, I met my very 1st lover Sherlock and he asked me, “Joan, what’s your fantasy? You can tell me, darling. You can tell me anything…”

Blindly frightened, I stayed silent.

“Name one for me. Just one.”

“I can’t.”

He stared at me, face betraying no emotions, and I was afraid that he would end things right there until his hand was around my neck, squeezing tightly. I gasped and clutched at his hand, startled as he hissed into my ear.

“Sometime I’ll have to tie you up and beat you. You know? Wouldn’t you like that, Joan? Wouldn’t you like for me to give you a spanking?”

I couldn’t breathe and I thought that the spanking didn’t matter in that moment. I was so innocent, so scared and I looked at him with fearful eyes, I had to have because he let me go and as I coughed to get my breath back, he ran his fingers up and down my throat, the up my chin to my lips. He brought his face down and kissed at my trachea, up my jaw to the corner of my lips. He stroked my hair and kissed my cheeks, where tears had started to streak.

“I’m sorry,” He murmured. “Maybe tomorrow. Maybe you’ll find you voice tomorrow night.”

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> 

When I went home, I poured my everything into my diary. In smeared purple ink, the words screamed in the voice I didn’t have, loud and honest.

_YES, OKAY!? I want it. It’s what I want and I don’t know what but it sounds right, so right. God knows why I need it, why I need to be punished. But that’s what I want okay? Tie me up. Spank me. As hard as you can. And then fuck me even harder. Please…I need the heat. I need the electricity/excitement/danger/HIM. Maybe then it’ll straighten me out._

Before I closed the book, in smaller letters I asked: _Why do I look so vulnerable, innocent? Am I Really?_

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> 

The next night, he asked the same questions again. In that same sultry voice, same ultra-soothing tone. I took a deep breath. I thought I could do it this time. He sat across from me in his favorite chair and said, “Let me make it easier on you. Let me do all the work.”

Instead of speaking, I shrugged…and trembled.

“All I need from you is the answer to my question: _Do. You._ Want _it_?”

I didn’t dare open my mouth. So instead, he came over to my side of his living room. Turned off the light on his side table. Unbuttoned my top and held my hands above my head as he suckled my breasts. Suckled them until I arched and moaned, feeling wetness spread between my thighs. After kissing me and licking me and getting me ready, he fucked me with my legs wrapped around his waist, his hands cradling my ass. I could imagine just what it would be like to have those unnaturally soft hands spanking me, but I couldn’t say it with words.

Not then anyway.

Afterwards, he drove me home and walking me to my front door, he caressed the side of my face and asked again, “Have you been naughty, baby? Should I give you a spanking? You’ve been a naughty girl, haven’t you?”

_Yes. Yes. YES. Goddammit!_

But unfortunately, that’s just what my diary says.

_Yes. Just do it. Please,_ please _don’t make me say it!_

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> 

To save my own mental well-being, I broke it off with him. He didn’t take it too well. We were in his place and he threw such a wop, I was terrified. He threw things and yelled at me and all I could say was, “I’m sorry, Sherlock. I’m sorry.”

Then he begged, pleaded for me to reconsider.

“We’re so _perfect_ together, Joan.” He tried to convince me, eyes bright with a madness I had never seen before. “Joan, Joan, Joan please see. Tell me!”

Once again, I was silent. And after a while, when he was calm enough, I asked him to take me home. We drove there in silence and I made my mind empty all thoughts of what I wanted. If I wanted his hands on me, then it was my fault too. Hell, I came into this looking for it. But I was, am, such a coward.

Always was.

When he pulled into the driveway, I sat there for a second to gather my thoughts. Maybe, if I could just explain it to him…if I could finally say what was on my mind. I turned towards him and as soon as I did, his mouth was on mine, hands everywhere at once.

“I’ll never let you go,” He murmured, biting my bottom lip so hard it bled. “You’re my naughty girl aren’t you?”

I made sure to make it inside the house and lock the door before I burst into tears.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> 

Sherlock was born on the good side of the tracks, born not only with a silver spoon in his mouth but a pacifier too. But he had all the characteristics of someone who was very much from the worst side. He did what he wanted, whenever he wanted and no one could stop him.

Girls loved him, boys envied him, adults wanted to wring his long, perfectly smooth, pale neck. I myself had more problems than simply speaking my fantasies aloud.

After I broke, well, attempted, to break things off with Sherlock, there were still two men in my life. The one who might make my X-rated dreams come true, and the other one, whom I met about a month after, who was exactly the type of man I’d been groomed and brainwashed into wanting to marry.

My natural good-girl attitude made my life hell and Sherlock knew it, even if Victor, my good guy, didn’t.

I couldn’t decide between the nice boy who was the same dark complexion as me, worked at the clinic with me, who wanted to take me out to dinner and introduce me to culture, and the one who could do all those things too but worked at his own career, that he made up himself, and wanted to whip me, beat me, hurt me.

So I had no choice but to see them both. Victor was a gentleman the entire time, picked me up at home and opened the car door for me. Took me on long, romantic walks and made me laugh. Sherlock would follow me on some of these dates, grabbed me and bring me into the men’s bathroom at restaurants, gagged me with his leather gloves and fucked me into the sink until I was a shuddery mess; hoisted me up against the wall outside the clinic and want at me, and in between tonging me nearly to death, telling me what a naughty girl I was and how he was always there, no matter what I did. That he’d follow me to the ends of the earth if he had to.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> 

There are lines in my diary that read like this:

_I’m meeting V’s dad and step-mom tonight (EEK!!) What do I do? Sherlock said he wants to lick me all over. He wants to spank me. He says I deserve it._

I always thought that it was my word: _deserve_. And I have always wanted to do this: to _TAKE_ it. To bear the overwhelming force of another, someone much stronger, much more powerful than myself. To lie still, or be tied, and to take it.

But still, I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t say ‘no’ to Victor, when I realized things were very, very wrong. Couldn’t say ‘yes’ to Sherlock when all the not good things he did felt oh, so right; when I wanted him to strip me and fuck me, to tie me down, to spank me until I cried.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> 

It took Sherlock breaking into my home and finding my diary before I came to terms with my true life. It took him devouring every word and then tying me down to the bed before he read those words out loud to me. “Back and forth, back and forth,” He sneered. “Between him and me, when you know the life you were destined to lead. You need it, don’t you, bad girl?”

I nodded. I heard the clink and swish of his belt as he pulled it from his waist.

“Then _say_ it.”

With my eyes focused on him, I finally found the power in truth. And I knew I wouldn’t see Victor again, even if Sherlock would make sure I didn’t, because no matter how nice he was, I knew I would stay with Sherlock, because he’d give me everything, everything I ever wanted.

So I took a deep breath, kept my eyes on him, the power flickering between us, and said,

“I’m yours. Do with me whatever you want. Spank me, fuck me, use me. No code words needed, no safe words. No stopping till it’s over.”

 

 

There aren’t any entries in my diary after that. I didn’t have anything left that I needed to say.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is done but please let me know if you like it!


End file.
